


Dearest to Me of All My Husband's Brothers

by ancslove



Category: Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, The Iliad - Homer
Genre: Canon-Typical Angst, F/M, Infidelity, New Friendships, Pre-War, Referenced Human Sacrifice, mutual understanding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-13 12:54:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29278770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ancslove/pseuds/ancslove
Summary: War is brewing after Helen absconds to Troy with the love of her life.  She finds an unexpected ally in Paris' elder brother.
Relationships: Hector & Helen of Troy (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Helen of Troy/Paris (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 14
Collections: Chocolate Box - Round 6





	Dearest to Me of All My Husband's Brothers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [anonymousanimosity](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anonymousanimosity/gifts).



“Troy’s walls will hold, brother,” Paris insisted. “My father – Agelaus, I mean, apologies to my lord father Priam – has told me often how the gods themselves built our walls. And the gods love Menelaus not, Helen can attest to that.”

All eyes of the Trojan councilors swung to Helen. She froze under their regard. This was not her city, not yet at any rate. She had no standing here, despite Paris’ protestations. Paris spoke so hopefully of their love, sanctified by Aphrodite herself, it made her feel invincible in his arms. But reality came crashing down when they finally got word of Menelaus’ response. War was coming, war beyond the scope of anything they had ever known. Menelaus had invoked the Oath of Tyndareus, sworn by practically all of Achaea’s kings and princes when they vied for her hand, all those years ago. A thousand ships were launching, yet still Paris saw no need to worry, secure as he was in the love of Helen and the favour of the gods themselves.

He was the only one.

“Lady Helen, is there anything at all you can tell us about what we are soon to face?”

The question came not from Paris, but his elder brother, Hector. Upon their introduction, Hector had been courteous, but wary. She’d sensed his disapproval of her presence, and his deep love and worry for his kingdom. 

Gathering her thoughts, she tried to articulate what she knew. “Menelaus is a competent warrior, although he has little interest in making a name for himself in swordplay or strategy. He has no burning desire for glory, not like some men, so I fear he is driven instead by revenge.” 

Or hurt, but she couldn’t say that. She tried not to think of whether she’d caused Menelaus pain, or simply wounded his pride.

“His brother Agamemnon is different. He seeks wealth and power, and all the trappings therein. Menelaus may one day be able to accept my choice to be with Paris, if he has any residual care for my well-being; Agamemnon never will. He won’t stop.”

“Thank you, Helen.” Hector smiled at her reassuringly, before turning back to the Trojan royalty and elders. Helen listened carefully as they discussed plans and preparations. Paris’ fervent optimism shone, seductive in its confidence, and Helen tried to let herself be swept away. But King Priam, a silent but strong presence throughout the council, seemed to age ten years with every fear voiced. 

Paris squeezed Helen’s hand, trying to offer comfort. “I know they will come, but I am sure that the war they want to wage will destroy them before us. They won’t last through a long campaign on foreign land.”

The arguments continued. Helen sat back and listened as her new husband brushed aside every worry. She could see that her own presence perhaps hindered the Trojan counsellors from speaking freely. Attempts to refute Paris would end in side-long glances at her and bitten tongues.

As the meeting adjourned, Helen touched Paris’ shoulder gently. “Wait for me, I’ll just be one minute.”

She hurried after her target. “Prince Hector, wait, please! One moment, I beg you.”

“My lady?” Hector, several strides ahead, turned to her. “What can I do for you?”

“Paris is so certain of himself and his standing before the gods, so sure that none can stand against his desires. But tell me truly, Hector, and do not dissemble. Do you agree with him?”

Hector’s dark gaze flickered. He glanced down, then back up to meet her eyes. “No, my lady, I do not. I hope he is right. I hope the gods will stand with us, but Lord Antenor and my brother Helenus fear the opposite. That Paris’ seizure of you is an affront to Father Zeus.”

“But he didn’t seize me, I came willingly! This was my choice, as much as Paris’. I believe that the gods won’t punish us for breaking the guest vow.”

“I pray you are correct, I know that both you and Paris are closer to the gods than I. And rest assured that I and my father and indeed all of Troy will be sending sacrifices and prayers and libations to the gods, for their protection and blessing. Lord Apollo has long favored Troy, and his silver bow may protect us now. But even so, this war will be long and difficult, for all of us.”

“I know. Since the first demands broke, I’ve known. Thank you, my lord, for being honest with me. For seeing clearly. And I just have one more favour to beg you. Tell me truthfully, should I return to Menelaus and beseech his mercy?”

Hector sighed heavily. Helen saw him glance back toward where Paris waited, chatting idly with another of his brothers.

“If I truly believed that doing so would save us all, I would already be begging you to leave, my lady. But I fear it is too late. Paris will follow you, he’s made that clear, and in doing so, he will die. But beyond that, I fear that your return will not stop the Achaeans’ mission. There is something you should know. Paris didn’t want to worry you, but, well, he loves passionately and kindly, but not wisely.”

“What is it? What could be worse than what we are facing?”

“Apparently, the Achaeans have also sought divine favour through sacrifice. And we have received word from our spies that they walked a terrible path in order to ensure victory. High King Agamemnon’s own eldest daughter was given.”

Helen drew in a sharp breath, the color draining from her face, and stared at him in abject horror. “No, not Iphigenia! Agamemnon adored her. He’s a harsh man, even cruel, but he loved her! And my sister. My poor sister, what must she be feeling now?”

Helen felt herself sway, and then Hector’s strong arm braced her, holding her up. “I apologize, my lady. I quite forgot that the unfortunate girl was your kin by blood, not just marriage.”

“My sister’s child, a beautiful, sweet, loving girl. Her laugh could light the darkest night. Clytemnestra had such high hopes for her.” Helen stared into the distance blankly.

“My brother felt that news of just how far the Achaeans had gone to commit to war would needlessly hurt you. I am truly sorry if I’ve overstepped.”

“No, Prince Hector,” Helen whispered dully. “Thank you for telling me. My love is sweet and well-meaning, but I needed to know. I need to mourn my niece; she deserves nothing less. And I don’t want to enter a war with such a secret hidden from me.”

Helen glanced back at Paris, her heart twisting in grief, love, and the sudden realization that, though she was determined to meet any hardships head-on at Paris’ side, she could not survive this coming war with only him. War was a man's domain, but women had to live with the consequences. She needed to know all the horrors facing her. She needed someone who understood that truth, who saw clearly instead of living in a dream of love. And she knew most of the Achaean kings. Paris didn't like to think of her past ties, but maybe Hector would see her value.

“Prince Hector, the coming years will try us all. Please, do not hold back the truth of what’s happening from me. I can bear it, and I will do anything in my power to help and defend Troy. Paris may disagree, but I am a daughter of Zeus, a child of warriors. I vow to you that I will love Troy as wholeheartedly as I love Paris. Let us be allies, you and I.”

Prince Hector's expression softened, perhaps he could discern her thoughts. He took her hand and bowed low. “Welcome to Troy, Lady Helen.”


End file.
